


December

by tacky_tramp



Category: Original Work
Genre: Clothed Sex, F/M, Polyamory, Wall Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-31
Updated: 2015-08-31
Packaged: 2018-04-18 06:36:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,161
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4695848
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tacky_tramp/pseuds/tacky_tramp





	December

The hotel was close to Penn Station, and the restaurant was close to the hotel, but I was still worried about the time. I figured I had a few minutes to drop off my bag and do my makeup before heading to the event. _Going to room, meet you at restaurant_ , I texted Becca. She replied, _Okay. There's a key under your name at the front desk. See you soon._

The elevator sort of terrified me, but I made it to the right floor without incident. I fumbled with the key card for a minute before the lock finally beeped obligingly and let me open the door. When it swung open to reveal the cramped room, quite snug with two double beds, I saw that one of the beds was occupied.

I stopped in my tracks and let my bag and purse fall without ceremony. "Kevin?"

He sat on the edge of the near bed, grinning at me like an idiot. "Hi."

It took all of two steps and then I had my arms around his neck and he had his hands on my waist, and my lips were on his and his were on mine. He pulled me in tight, but I shoved him down on his back and followed him down, straddling him and letting my hair fall around our faces like a curtain. I didn't care about breathing, only keeping our mouths locked together. Like I could ever kiss him enough to make up for lost time.

Eventually, I pulled back long enough to ask, "What are you doing here?"

"Kissing you," he replied, illustrating that on my throat.

I laughed. "I thought we were meeting at the restaurant."

His lips were on my earlobe now. "I wanted to surprise you," he mumbled in between nips and licks.

I shivered to feel his breath in my ear. "And you thought you could never sneak up on me again."

"I'm very sneaky," he agreed, kissing across my cheekbone and back to my mouth.

Another few minutes slipped by that way, sliding my tongue over his, drawing his into my mouth, running my fingertips over his face as if to prove to myself he was really there.

I pulled back again. "Where's Becca?"

"She went to the restaurant when you texted. She wanted us to have some alone time."

"I love that girl."

"I love her, too."

"I love _you_ , too. As a matter of fact, I plan on loving both of you repeatedly throughout the night."

His hands, which had creeped inevitably toward my ass, pulled me into him like a reflex. "Fuck. Yes. I like this plan."

My hips couldn't help but roll against him. I was already absurdly turned on. But I put on a serious expression. "I have an important question, Kevin."

He looked a little dazed. "What's that?

"What time is it?"

He lifted his hand off my ass so he could see his watch. "5:45." His hand promptly returned to its previous location, his thumb stroking the smooth fabric of my skirt.

"Mmm. I have an important follow-up question."

"Yes?"

I reached for the knot of his tie. "Why the fuck are you dressed?"

"It starts at 6!" he exclaimed, grabbing my wrists.

I shook his grasp easily and tugged the tie free. "Yes. We'll be fashionably late." I wrestled with the top button of his shirt and then had bare skin exposed, and covered it immediately with my open mouth.

"I don't think this is a good idea," he said. He kinda sounded like he meant it, which was weird.

But I had other indicators. I rolled my hips again, and could feel him hard underneath me. "Your cock thinks it's a good idea."

He grunted, but went for my wrists again. "Contrary to popular belief, I don't let my cock make all the decisions."

I sat up. He was gorgeously flushed and tousled, his hair a little mussed and his glasses askew. His expression, however, was totally serious. "Oh," I said. "Well." I stood up and retrieved my purse from the ground, perhaps a little more sharply than was required. "If you'd rather listen to the world's most asinine Q&A session than fuck me into the mattress, don't let me stand in your way."

He stood up, too, and crowded me back against the door. Wrapping one hand around my neck, he said, "I want nothing more than to bury my face in your cunt and then fuck you up against this door." His eyes were hot and hungry. I whimpered. "But," he continued, "if I see you naked, I won't let you get dressed again until you have to go to the airport tomorrow afternoon."

My breath was coming fast and shallow now. I licked my lips, which he did not fail to notice. "That ... would pose a problem," I conceded. But I had no intention of giving up. I dropped my purse again and reached for the hem of my skirt. "I guess I won't get naked, then."

He looked down and watched me hike my skirt up and reach underneath it. A second later, my panties emerged. I shoved them down my thighs and let them fall to my ankles, and stepped out of them. My high heels, I left on. Then I cupped his cheek and forced his gaze back up to meet mine. "I'm not leaving this room until you fuck me."

He closed his eyes for a moment, then crashed his mouth into mine. It was like our first kiss: hard, inelegant, overwhelming. Exactly what I wanted. 

His hand was rough, too, when it shoved my thighs apart and pressed up against me. He found me soaking, and moaned into my mouth. His index finger slipped inside me easily as his thumb covered my clit. “Yes,” I said between kisses. “God, yes.” He bit my lower lip and slid another finger in. 

I was panting by now. I gulped in breath after breath. “Kevin. I believe. You said something. About your face. In my cunt.”

He dropped to his knees immediately. My skirt was rucked up and out of the way and he dove in without hesitation. His lips and tongue covered me. They pushed between my outer labia and shoved and tugged my clit. His fingers, still deep inside me, _pulled_ , and tore a hoarse cry from my throat. Distantly, I spared a thought for the people in adjacent rooms, but called and swore without regard for their tender sensibilities. 

My knees were trembling. My hands had gone all tingly and I felt lightheaded. I tugged at his hair, at his ears. “Wait. Wait. Stop. I’m hyperventilating.”

Reluctantly, he emerged from under my skirt and stood. His arms bracketed my head, and he dropped feathery kisses all over my face while I caught my breath. I could smell myself on his cheeks. “Jesus,” I murmured, blindly clinging to his shirt. I wanted a break. I needed more.

I pushed my hair out of my face and smiled weakly. Now that my brain was coming back on line, a plan was forming. I said, “I can take _your_ clothes off, right?” I didn’t wait for an answer. Moving smoothly from button to button, I opened his shirt. I shoved it aside and spread my palms over his chest. His skin was warm and smooth under my hands. I hummed happily as I ran my fingers through the hair there, and then slid around to grasp at his back, pulling him close. He loved pressing our bodies together, I knew, but he craved skin-to-skin contact. The fabric between us would frustrate him. 

Sure enough, he leaned in, but frowned. His bare belly wanted mine, but found my shirt instead. “Fuck it,” he said at last. “Take off your fucking clothes. Your blouse. Your bra. Your skirt. Your shoes. Everything.”

I grinned and immediately pulled my shirt over my head. He didn’t wait for me to complete the job; while I worked the clasp of my bra, he tugged my skirt down over my hips and wrested off one shoe and then the other. Balance escaped me for a second and I stumbled, giggling. He caught me and pushed me back up against the door, holding me there by my shoulders. His eyes raked down my body. “Yes,” he said roughly. “I missed you like this.” 

His hands followed his eyes. “I missed these breasts,” he said, grasping them both. “I missed this belly,” he said, running his hand over it. “I missed this curve,” he said, skimming the line of my waist and hip. “I missed this ass,” he said, sinking his fingers into my flesh. “And these thighs,” he said, letting his hands drop down the backs of my legs.

Suddenly, he hooked a hand behind one knee and hoisted the leg up to his waist. My cunt spread open, and he pressed himself against me. I gasped. The pressure and friction, his cock hard behind the fabric, made me want to rub myself against him like a cat in heat. But somehow, I had the presence of mind to push at his chest and insist, “Your pants! They’ll stain!”

He grumbled and reached between us to paw at his fly. I swatted his hand away. “Let me,” I purred. 

“Wait. Right pocket.”

I reached inside and felt the foil. “Boy scout,” I said admiringly.

“Always prepared,” he agreed.

“Arrogant,” I suggested. “How’d you know you’d get lucky tonight?”

He groaned and dug his nails into my thigh. I yelped. “Stop stalling,” he said through gritted teeth. 

I pulled the button open easily, but then lowered the zipper with excruciating leisure, tooth by tooth. “I’m. Not. Stalling,” I said, lingering over every syllable. “I’m. _Teasing_.”

With his free hand, he grabbed my nipple roughly and pinched hard. I yelped again, then moaned. “Tease me later,” he ordered. “Fuck me now.” The force in his voice only made me moan more -- and made me desperate to have him inside me. 

I shoved his pants and boxers out of the way, far enough down his thighs that they wouldn't get wet. His cock fairly leapt out, every inch as I remembered it. “Oh God,” I breathed. “I want my lips around that later.”

“Later,” he agreed as I rolled on the condom. I lined him up and then threw my arms over his shoulders. We locked eyes. Suddenly, I had nothing clever to say. 

“Kevin,” I whispered.

“Laura,” he replied. 

He drove into me with one hard thrust, and I threw my head back and shouted.

As promised, he fucked me up against that door. He grabbed my free leg and lifted it up to his waist, leaving me pinned helplessly and holding onto him desperately. He buried his face in my neck. I licked his ear and filled it with praise and exhortations. Soon I was babbling. And always his cock drove into me with a relentless rhythm. He adjusted the height of my hips and the angle of my thighs until I sucked in a sudden gasp and scrabbled at his back. My legs tensed around his waist and shook. “Like that,” I said over and over again, “like that, like that, Christ, like that,” until my breath stopped and I froze in place and came with my eyes clenched shut. He bit down hard on my shoulder and tumbled after me, panting fast and harsh against my skin. 

We stayed like that for a long moment. I absently petted the back of his neck. My thighs were slick and his hands started to slip, so I reached between us to hold the condom in place while he pulled out, and then he let my legs go and let me stand again. Standing proved challenging, however. “Bed,” I murmured. “Just for a little while.”

We flopped out on the near bed, our limbs an undifferentiated tangle. I kissed whatever bit of skin was in front of me. He squirmed and I realized it was his armpit. I giggled, feeling drunk. He threaded his fingers into my hair so he could scrape blunt nails against my scalp. “I love you,” I said. “Not just because you fuck me like that and then pet me like this.”

“Not _just_ because.”

“It’s real high on the list, though, not gonna lie.”

“I love you, too.”

My eyes stung suddenly. I was about to say a whole lot of sad, sweet things; to promise and beg; to ruin everything. I took a ragged breath. It would keep. “We should shower,” I said abruptly, rising. “There’s a time limit on ‘fashionably late.’” 

I didn’t have to look back over my shoulder to know he was watching me walk away from the bed. Or to know he’d follow me into the shower in a minute, where we’d struggle valiantly not to fuck again, and fail. The restaurant would keep, too.


End file.
